Lives in the Past
by hauntedhuman
Summary: Buddhism says that a there is a process of rebirth, were you will be reborn once you die and you will comeback maybe in your previous body or in a different figure or form. Yet it has never been truly proven, until the case of a certain young boy. A boy who has lived the same life over and over for years. Until that boy discovers the one thing that could change it all.
1. Chapter 1

**1**

"While I thought I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die." -Da Vinci

December 14, 1995

In the cold crisp air that didn't seem to be violated by the horrible scent that belonged in London. This air was clean and could only be found miles away from the city and deep within a forest. Where a manor that shouldn't belong to this time stood, and behind was littered with gardens and a tiny pond that held a few fish. This manor had stood in the same spot for centuries and hasn't even crumbled or take on any age through those years. This house had seen its master grow up and die at such a young age over and over, and finally it was left without a master and now was empty waiting for its master to return to it.

Yet away from this manor in a hospital that was in the city a man and women were having a child. A couple that looked like nobility, and had an aura of power surrounding them. After the hours of waiting for the birth of their new child, the baby arrived into the world of the living. It's cries were soft and soon stopped after a few minutes and just examined the world with his piercing blue eyes. The child took in his mothers face, and her blonde hair. Than slowly saw his father's face and watched him carefully as he was taken by that man. After him came another women, one with red hair and wore red clothing and even smelled of roses. For a young baby one person was enough to remember yet for this child the three people he remembered. After each introduction the child had been out down so that he could rest and wait to be taken to his new home. As the child fell asleep he was named, Ciel Phantomhive, Son of Vincent and Rachael Phantomhive.

December 14, 2005

It had been ten years since that boy had be born and the years had been fill with joy and splendor, and fear for the boys health, which was poor since his birth. Yet today was different it was his birthday and this boy was filled with happiness, not caring for his frail body he ran throughout the house giggling and smiling. Finally Ciel had reached double digits, and he could be considered a big boy. That was what was going through the slate haired boy as he headed towards the parlor. The room where his parents always were, he wanted to show them how happy he was, and to be able to see their smiling faces.

Behind the parlor doors, hidden still from Ciel's vision two bodies laid in pools of blood. The room seemed dark yet the sun was shining through the window, and the lights were on. The bloods looked so lifeless just laying side by side, their eyes shut and holding one another hands like they just fell asleep. Yet the holes in their chests from where the bullets passing through their bodies showed that they didn't just fall asleep. The crimson red blood stained their clothing and the rug underneath them. The room smelled of death, and all the light had been taken away with their deaths.

Ciel came to a halt when he reached the parlor doors and with a shove he opened the doors and just stood there. His mouth hung open and his blue eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Both of his parents laid there dead. IN that moment the joy and happiness was sucked out of his little body and was filled with despair and grief. Yet those emotions were cut short, and left behind a unconscious boy who was being carried away to where his nightmares would start.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"Fear stifles our thinking and actions. It creates indecisiveness that results in stagnation. I have known talented people who procrastinate indefinitely rather than risk failure. Lost opportunities cause erosion of confidence, and the downward spiral begins."  
-Charlies Stanley

January 18, 2006

Little over a month had passed since the young ten year old had been kidnapped and taken captive. During that month he had been sold from his kidnappers to a someone else. So far Ciel had only spent a few days in this new place. All he knew was that it was underground, someplace away from society. There were candles everywhere, and that was all he could see from where he was held. Though today something was different he saw a clocked figure that weren't usually here. These figures seemed to form a circle, and all he could see was their backs and a few that were on the other side. Though he couldn't make out what they were surrounding and why. The small cage he was being held in, made him feel like he was their animal, a toy for what will happen.

Ciel was a toy for these clocked figures, he was going to be their sacrificial lamb. The leader of these figures wore the same black clock yet this figure had an aura that gave off a powerful sensation. Someone who had seen the death of millions of men, had seen the rise and fall of millions of civilizations. That he held a wisdom that none else could have. That man stuck out like a sore thumb, it was visible that he wasn't of this world, that he was someone everyone should run from. The blue eyed boy just stared at the figure, wanting to catch the face to see who this man was.

Yet before that was possible someone had opened the cage that Ciel sat in and dragged him out by his hair towards the middle of the circle. The hand gripping him tightened as he felt himself lifted up. His body tensed as he tried to feel the ground, his toes pointed as they swung vigorously, one searching for the ground and to find the man holding him. That was when his vision was covered with a thick black cloth, and again the only thing he could see was darkness. In that darkness he searched for a safe place, someplace he could go so he wouldn't be so terrified.

The clocked figures encircled the boy who was being placed on a long altar like table, where one figure was gently cutting the boys clothes off so the filthy creature before them could be visible to their starving eyes. Once the fabric had been removed, what was left flesh, young flesh that to them was filthy, and this flesh had to be sacrificed, and had to leave this world of the living. Expect their plans were interrupted by police swarming into their cellar. Guns at the ready as the figures parted, finding ways to escape. Yet there was no way to run, every exit was blocked. They were done for, their cult was finally finished, after having been working in secret for hundreds of years, they were finally put to an end.

January 25, 2006

It had been a week since the cult had been stopped and Ciel had been set free from their grasps. Though what he found weird was that what he believed to have been the leader of that group was an officer in Scotland Yard. Someone who had been searching for them for years, and had finally made his way into the cult and was able to bring them down. Though this man seemed young, and out of place. He wore nice suits and his red eyes made him seem like he wasn't human. This same man was the one asking him questions about the events. Though the man seemed to know all the answers. All Ciel did was nod and look down. He had no family, his aunt and what would have been his cousin died in a car crash. His parents were dead. Leaving Ciel all alone in this world.

Yet just beyond the city in the rural areas was a mansion, the owner of this mansion was Ciel, it was the only heirloom left to him, besides money and their company. Though there was a crew running this mansion. A red haired girl who wore a maids dress and took on the role of a maid, though didn't do a good job of it. A cook who always was found smoking. Then a blonde haired gardener who had strength no man should ever have. Than there was the last one, the head butler, who was a old man who rarely ever spoke and was constantly drinking tea. They had been stuck in this house, watching their owner die, and come back. They were frozen, and finally they felt like this never ending story of sadness would end.


	3. Chapter 3

risi: Answer to your review and to anyone who has the same question. Though I can't go into full detail because it will be explained later on in the story. Sebastian never gets the chance to take Ciel's soul, because a certain thing occurs before he could. Sorry it's so vague. Also thank you risi for taking an interest.

* * *

**3**

"The home should be the treasure chest of living."

-Le Corbusier

Present Day:

It had been seven years since his life had changed and he was thrown into running everything his family owned. During those seven years, Ciel had sold the toy company and now was working mostly with the stock market. The huge estate that was on the edge of London, was his new home. He sold all the other houses and took this one as his own permanent estate. With these changes Ciel had become a rich seventeen year old. With this money he was able to send himself off to a good private school, and knew he would be able to go to college.

Though also in those seven years other things happened to him. The investigator of his case disappeared off the face of the earth, and whenever he made an attempt to look for the man, he was turned down. Supposedly to the world that man did no exist, and neither did his case, expect with his parents case. That was the only case he found that was reported and written down, and from that report he learned nothing about the man who saved him. Yet whenever he went out into the city he swore he say that man following him, watching him from afar. Though his psychiatrist said it was probably just a figment of his imagination due to his PTSD, which he got from his parents death. Though no matter how many pills he was on he would still see that man following him. Though he was slowly pushing it away and believing his doctors words and advice. That man was just a figment of his imagination , the man didn't exist.

Today was a Saturday, a boring day that was made dreadful by the dark clouds that hovered over the Phantomhive estate, along with the rest of London. For Ciel it was the day he was able to sleep in, to lounge around the house. This rainy day was the first day of his break from school, the first day he could relax from the stress of classes and the constant pestering of his fellow classmates and teachers. No more reasons to put on a fake smile and pretend to enjoy the people around him. The only company he enjoyed was the one of his bed, and his other servants. He didn't truly find being surrounded by spoiled brats that pleasant of a company, since all their ever wanted to do was spend their parents money and waste their lives away. While Ciel enjoyed his live and would rather no waste it on idiotic activities that could mess him up. That was not how he wanted to be.

Away from all that fake world was Ciel. Curled up in a bed that could fit about 10 of him, in a room that was suited for a king. The room was dark even though it was about noon. Though the threatening clouds overhead did seem to darken everything in the area. For the young man the darker the better for him to sleep. Yet when you watched the boy he seemed to perfect. No movement, no noises seemed to escape him while he slept, expect you could tell that he was dreaming.

_Darkness that was all the boy could see. Darkness on top of darkness, it kept going. Than a faint light appeared in that light were faces, faces that he had seen covered in blood, with no life in their bodies. Behind was that darkness, yet in that darkness he saw something. There was an image, something he knew he wanted, something he trusted. A crossroad, this was his crossroads. The light or the dark. Which did he crave for more. _

_Suddenly he was thrown out of that darkness and into a old London, an era that he seemed to recognize yet didn't. He was laying on a street, a dirty street. He couldn't feel anything, all he could do was stare blankly at the sky above him. It was blue, a blue that seemed to go on forever, no imperfection, no speck of white, or gray. It was clear. Though something distracted him from that sky, it was warmth. A warmth that seemed to be leaving his body, seeping out of a whole in his chest, turning the street under him even dirtier. Than he felt something, he felt his body gasp, gasp for one more breath of oxygen. _


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

"To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent."  
-Buddha

Miles away from the Phantomhive manor, in the busy city of London, hidden away from the world, was a tiny Funeral Parlor. The shop was old, rotten and slowly crumbling from the elements. From the years the sign had taken the grunt of the damage. This caused the sign to be in it's current state, resting precariously on the almost no existent roof. The windows were covered in dirt and grim making it rather difficult for anyone to look inside and peak on it's occupants. Yet the only thing that seemed to be taken care of was the door. It was a nice door, as doors go it was outstanding. It was a dark mahogany, with a beautiful design that was made out of iron, which decorated the bottom half of the door. While the top half had a milky white glass window that had the name of the shop, which had been worn off the huge sign above from the age, written in black calligraphy. It read " Funeral Parlor Since 1840".

Inside the old warn down looking building didn't exist. The inside of the Parlor looked like it should belong in a palace. Though it was tiny it seemed cramped in areas, one couldn't get over the difference from outside and in. The carpet was soft black carpet that expanded through out the whole building, which contrasted nicely with the slightly off white walls. The building had 5 rooms, and one tiny bathroom. Two of the rooms were used for wakes, these two rooms were in the main entrance of the parlor. Than there were 3 back rooms, one was a makeshift kitchen, one was where the coffins were placed also used as a storage room. The last room was the office, which was filled with boxes and papers hidden under the papers and files was a huge desk and a computer. One of the walls was taken up with a huge calendar that was marked up with random events. In the middle of the mess was a thin man who was dressed in black and seemed to be taking a cat nap on his desk.

This man was the director of the Parlor and had been since it first opened it's doors in the late 19 century. Though the turn of each century had caused the man to change to keep up with the times he was the same marked up man searching for a good laugh. Yet now he had a few major changes to his appearance. The Undertakers once long gray hair was now cut shorter,going to the length of his shoulders, and was usually held back in a ponytail with a single long braid resting at the side of his face. The scars that once covered his whole body had faded and turned into faint white lines. The clothing was updated, expect around his neck hung a pair of glasses that he didn't truly need. They were the only unchanged thing about him, besides his voice, laugh and name. Everything else had been changed do to the advancements in the world.

Today the Undertaker was expecting for everything to be quiet and have no one disturb him for once in his life. Though that wouldn't happen at all. The jingle of the door bell sprang to life when someone slipped in. The white haired male didn't dare lift his head from his desk, hoping that the person would just leave. Yet the person didn't. he could tel because he felt eyes burning into his head.  
"If you want me to take care of your dead relative. Please leave your name and number in the book by the door. If that is not what you are here for than just leave." The Undertaker spoke halfheartedly, just wanting to rest.  
"Now is that how to treat all your customers?" The voice was familiar, it was a voice he has heard over a million times over his lifespan.  
"Tell me a joke and I'll answer that question." He replied with a bit more joy in his voice, hoping that he would get a good laugh, before forcing the person in front of him to leave.  
"You only wish Undertaker. I don't do that anymore." Than it clicked, the way his name was spoken, the aggravated tone in the male's voice. Everything came together and he recognized the man without looking.  
"Fine. Than may I ask why you are disturbing me in my humble shop?" He asked as his head slowly raised to inspect the male before him.

It had been nearly 18 years since he last saw the man before him. Since than he hadn't changed a single bit. The neat black hair, which seemed to always be perfect. The piercing red eyes that had seen millions of people die, and the passing of centuries. Than there was the clothing, which were more updated. His black nails which were impeccable. Black shoes that smelled of shoe shine, and looked like shinning gems. The only thing that wasn't as per usual for the Undertakers demon was the faded black jeans, a thread bare grey t-shirt which was slightly covered by a military style jacket. The clothing wasn't normal yet he didn't have to remember that he didn't live in the run down part of London, and his fellow shop owners or residents would start to suspect he was selling something if a rich looking male walked in.  
"I came to see if you still had all of his files." The demon answered, his tone still agitated.  
"Of course. If I had destroyed them I would be 6 feet under. Why are you asking my dear friend?" It confused the Reaper why he was asked that. It wasn't like he was the one tracking the boy's life. All he did was store the files and the journals that he was given at the end of the boy's life each time. "Wait before you answer that. Have you come to give me a present?" He inquired, wondering if the boy had met his demise once more.  
"No, I've come empty handed. I've asked before I've been told he hasn't died yet. So I was wondering if you knew anything about it all?" With that the Undertaker shook his head with a sign.  
"No one has brought him to visit me yet. I don't expect them to break the dreaded news to him yet. I believe they are waiting for you to return."

With that statement the guest just grumbled something under his breath as he handed a piece of paper to the Reaper. Written in calligraphy was a joke, a payment for the conversation. Once the paper was passed and the Undertaker was laughing. The black haired male left the funeral parlor with his head hung low as he left the area. The news that his master had lived past 13 had surprised him. Though no one from the estate had tried to tell him about his past lives. To try and figure out why they have to witness the boy's death over and over. Along with why he kept returning. Now it was time for him to return. To see if he could cause the progression into solving the cause around his masters rebirth. To see if his master had broken the cycle without anyone knowing. It was time for everything to be answered.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this is so short. I have been busy with school and sports. This is just our dear demon getting back into Ciel's life. Please Enjoy.

* * *

**5**

"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time."  
-Mark Twain

Back at the manor the slated hair boy was awake. His whole body was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his chest was heaving, his hands trembling. What the boy had just saw in his sleep was disturbing. Slowly he felt his chest, searching for a wound something to tell him that it was a dream. All his fingers found was the old burn on his side, nothing else. There was no whole in his chest, all there was was his beautiful skin. Than he fell back into the pillows, taking deep breaths trying to calm himself down. That dream had felt so real, like that event did occur. Though Ciel didn't understand that it did occur, though it happened many a year ago.

A gentle knock on the door, followed by the sound of door dragging over a carpet as it opened. Behind it was two figures. A small petite form followed by a much taller form. Ciel just glanced to the door as he curled up into his blankets trying to pretend he was asleep so his servants wouldn't bother him.  
"Young Master, we have a man here who wants to take the spot of butler." The female voice whispered knowing that her master was just trying to make them go away.  
"I can take it from here Miss." The voice was familiar to the boy's ears, a voice he had been waiting to hear, searching for for years. The figure that belonged it gracefully pushed past the red haired girl, leaving the female blushing before she ran off.

The man slowly moved his way into view of the boy, before watching the figure before him. Since last time the male had seen him he was tinier, more youthful. Now that boy had changed. He was taller, looked somewhat older like he had seen things he shouldn't had seen. Even from where he stood he could see in the blue eyes that his past lives were being triggered. So he started to remember.  
"Here is my resume, I'd truly love to be given this job." The male spoke his red eyes staring straight into the younger male's blue ones.  
"Thank you." The boy replied harshly as he snatched the paper and began to look over it, searching for something. The red eyed demon knew just what. Law Enforcement. Than the boy gave a heavy sigh when it wasn't found and the demon just gave a small smirk. "You seem to fit for the job. You start whenever you are ready. The head butler Tanaka, will show you to your room. Now will you please leave so can sleep." There was the harsh voice that Sebastian was so use to.  
"Thank you, Sir."


End file.
